Fool Me Twice - or - No Really, It's Just The Top

Alright, I suppose I set myself up for this. I found what I thought was a cute, hint-of-cleavage-showing top at Penney's a while back. Now I know that some of you smart, fashion savvy ladies out there would've passed it by simply due to the implications of wearing something with an empire waist. Ohh, but not me. Apparently, I needed to learn my lesson. Uh, twice.

1st wearing: Future Mother-in-Law points out that even though she knows it's just a babydoll-style top, (at this point I cringe) she can't help but think of me carrying her future grandchild when she looks at me in it. Much baby talk, strong hinting and uncomfortableness ensues. At that point I consider never wearing that top again. But then...

2nd wearing, yesterday: I'm not planning on leaving the house much anyway, so I put it on again. I insist that J gives me his honest opinion on whether or not the shirt makes me look pregnant. He thinks it's cute and that I'm just being my usual paranoid self-conscious self. Well, I no more than stand in my driveway for ten seconds, and the neighbor lady walking by with her dog stops to chat, gets all big-eyed and asks if we're "expecting". "No, no - it's just the top" I respond flatly, folding my arms in an effort to cover myself up. "Oh that's the second time I've been wrong when I've asked someone that! It's those empire-waist tops!" "Heh, yeah." I brush off the comment and make small-talk as long as I can stand it, though I really just want to run back inside and/or die of embarrassment. Can't help but beat myself up over that one later for not knowing better, because the pudginess doesn't help my case (or self-esteem!) either. But for now, I will blame it on the top (shown below, except mine is just plain blue) and my failure to pick out flattering clothing. I must bid good riddance to you, my silly (albeit cute and inexpensive) fashion faux pas!

Favorite new show

My favorite, or actually our (yeah - isn't that cute?) favorite new show that's been running through my head lately is Flight of the Conchords. Have you seen this? It's really good stuff! I hate to compare it to anything because that won't quite do it justice - but I'll just say that if you're a fan of deadpan humor (e.g. The Office, Arrested Development), witty music parodies (e.g. Tenacious D), interesting-sounding (e.g. New Zealand) accents, or if you're just cool you will most likely dig it. Chances are if you've been on our couch recently we've shared this show (and possibly even some drinks & snacks) with you. If not, there are quite a few video clips that you can check out online if you're interested.


P.S. I totally looked up the proper usage of "e.g." versus "i.e." for this post, in order to impress all you fancy, highly-edumacated readers out there. Then I debated that it still didn't sound quite right and maybe I should just leave it out instead of risking it. Then I told myself to just shut-up and post this because that's beside the point of the whole thing anyhow. Ah, sweet nerdification!

The search continues...

Checked out another wedding venue this weekend, not sure if it's a likely candidate. One "plus" that they have is the BYOB policy, so we can supply the liquor, have their bartenders serve it and possibly save some money that way (we're trying to avoid a cash bar if possible, but it probably won't be possible). The negatives include: slightly out of town location, a gravel "parking lot" and the building itself (which is an old mill that's been renovated) looking from the outside pretty much like the surrounding buildings in that area - as in, ugly warehouse-like and/or abandoned. The room rental also isn't that cheap considering the above and that you have to rent place settings for $3.50 a pop. Plus, we both agreed that having a sign out front with "let us catar your event" just doesn't inspire confidence. Thankfully it didn't say "you're event" though - I think I would've screamed and run away at that point.

The suggestions were good for having a casual backyard wedding - our yard is just too small, and any family members who would have decent-sized property are a ways out of town. Still a consideration though. There are a few more places on my list that I want to visit - I'm trying to keep my hopes up. There has to be something at least halfway decent around here.








Of course, there's always the beach wedding idea - can't imagine what could go wrong there...

You mustn't touch

I know I have a number of somewhat silly hang-ups about things. One of them is personal space, and another is eating in the company of others. I may have noted in a previous post that I experience some displeasure and discomfort in others nosing in on whatever I'm eating. Sure, at home I wouldn't mind my fiance grabbing a bite off my plate or touching my food, we're cool like that - but with coworkers that feels like a boundary that just shouldn't be crossed. With one of my coworkers, I can blame this on two things: she happens to have a very inquisitive nature (she's usually interrupting you to ask another question while you're trying to answer the first one) and she never wears her damn glasses. So, say I bring something from a fast food place for lunch. Even if she's got something of her own, this is usually what happens:
Co: What'd you get?
Me: Oh, just a chicken sandwich off the dollar menu (shrugging as to promote the idea it's nothing to be too interested in.)
Co: Ohh. I haven't had that before, what kind?
Me: Just a fri-
Co: Lemme see it (rolls chair over to my desk, leans in about 3 inches from sandwich)
Me: (Feeling awkward) Yep, just yer basic chicken sand-
Co: Lemme see how much meat they put on it, what else is on it? (squinting and reaching for it)
Which mostly likely will lead to me slapping her hand away and yelling "Dude, back off! I am not lifting my buns up to show you my meat!" loud enough for everyone in the office to hear.
That'll teach her.

Distracted, discouraged, somewhat hopeful

Not to be a complainer, but... ah, fuck it - you know me. Lately I've really been making a concerted effort to get back into the wedding planning, but I'm still not getting very far. It just doesn't come as naturally to me as it does most women, that part that says "This! I want this and I must have it! I'm a princess, a pretty pretty princess!" Ok, maybe not. But I do need to get at least something in order, an' wit' a quickness. The few options that are out there are all getting booked for any of the decent dates next year. I'm feelin the pressure, yo. The trouble isn't just money - even though that is quite troubling - it's that I'm awful at making decisions, especially when I'm not that thrilled with any of my options. I know that sometime here in the nearish future, we'll be married. But right now, it just feels really out of reach and I feel just kind of stupid and bad about it. But that's just me. I've probably said all this before.

I've been seeing some really awful, like inexcusably bad, websites while looking for wedding vendors. Stuff that hasn't been updated in years, corny graphics from the 90s, the whole bit. Doesn't anyone check out business' websites these days? I mean, I'm not going to book something just by seeing it online, but damn, would it kill these people to put up some useful information? Maybe throw me a few decent pictures that aren't thumbnail size? It is at least somewhat representative of your business, no? Bah!

But it's alright.

So, how've you been? We should catch up again sometime soon.

Please don't report me to Clinton & Stacy

I need some new clothes, man. The good news is: I lost some weight over the last couple months. The bad news is: I haven't lost enough to really fit into the stuff I was wearing this time last year. So I'm in that awkward in-between phase where the few larger-sized items I bought a few months ago are just making me look bigger than I am now, and the smaller clothes I have are making me look like I'm a little too "poured into" them. I mostly wear button-up blouses to work and they will fit for the most part, except I'm getting that annoying peek-a-boo around the third button region across the bust (see pic of Ms. Spears with that problem, exaggerated). Oh, and that of course doesn't mean I'm not wearing these shirts. Because you know the look I'm going for says "Hey - I'm a little bit office, but I'm a little bit hussy too - lookit my bra!" But, you know, it's fine - just as long as I keep pulling on my shirt, and you don't view me from the side. Dude, I need some new clothes.

Invisible Roadblocks

Why do I always feel the need to give myself an intro to what I'm going to say? It's a whole lot of leading up to nothing. I feel as if I'm gradually unlearning any previous communication skills I had. Bear with, I feel some train-of-thought, free-form posts coming. And well, there I go again...

Last night I wasn't sleeping well, kept waking up in that annoying "I'm seriously WAY too awake at this hour" kind of way. Stupid brain wouldn't shut-up. The internal monologue went something like this:
"Hey! What was that joke, that was somewhat funny that time? Hmm, now you can't get back to sleep til you think of it! How did that go again?"
"Why? Who cares? Please, PLEASE shut up and just stop thinking about it!"
"Hey, how about I just keep repeating the song 'Hey Jude' in your head for no reason?"
"RRRGHH!"
"Can I just conjure up some abstract yet poignant dreams?"
"Fine. As long as I can sleep..."

And then I dreamed that a very nice lady (though I'm not quite sure who she was) was gently telling me that I could benefit from some counseling - because, A) most people can benefit from it, and B) I've hit somewhat of a roadblock that I need to work through in order to get on with my life.

Huh. And then I dreamed that I woke up and told you that.

The point is not lost on me, but still... weird.

Another from the blurry cat series

"Sooo snoozy... must continue grooming... so much belly-fur to tend to, but..." *yawn*


"Myeh. Finish baftime later..." *Honk-shoo*

Well, hose me down

So, recently - in an effort to give myself a more lively glow - I tried one of those "mystic tans" that I had heard about. I haven't done too well in the past with applying self-tanner at home - it always ends up looking like I have some sort of skin disease once I'm out in natural light. So I thought yeah, maybe having an automated machine hose me down with tanner would have better results.

I have to hand it to the woman at the tanning salon - she was very friendly and very thorough with the instructions. She even had me watch a demonstration video which instructed you to remove all clothing before you get sprayed, yet to my disappointment, did not show people demonstrating getting naked. Pfft. Anyway, she warned me that there is somewhat of a "learning curve" with using the system. It seemed pretty damn simple to me, but once I got in there I understood what she meant. See, once you get in the booth the whole thing happens so fast, and this automated voice is giving you instructions that you can't really hear what with all the misting and blowing and whatnot. I was too focused on whether or not I should be holding my breath, and when I did take one I ended up getting a lungful of the disgustingly-sweet tanning mist that was filling the entire chamber - that can't be good. So if I hadn't been busy coughing that out, I might've done a better job at holding out my arms as instructed to get an even coating. Oops. I was just glad that the whole spraying time was less than 20 seconds, as I already was feeling claustrophobic and having visions of gas chambers in that short amount of time.

So, the results? Pretty good, slightly smelly, a few splotchy spots and streaks where it was uneven, but not too bad. I wouldn't want to do this right before going out in a bathing suit (not that I see that happening any time soon) as the streaks would've been pretty obvious - but with clothes on, it looked pretty good and wasn't orangey. Bad thing is, the color only lasted for a few days (it can last up to a week) - so for $25 it probably wasn't the most practical. In my case though, I had really lotioned myself up before going in there, and the lady did warn me that if the moisturizer you use beforehand has mineral oil in it (oops, it did) the tan may not "take" as well. So, see? Learning curve.

In case you are considering this, here are a few other points to remember:
1. Get naked. I'm not sure if your bathing suit would make it without getting stained.
2. They will give you some "barrier cream" which is to be applied where you don't want the tanner to look freaky - such as palms & fingernails. Other places that they don't tell you about that will look dirty-tan afterwards? The bellybutton and the batty-crease. Ew. Also, I put the cream on my elbows considering they'd be somewhat dry, but it ended up looking weird when they were still white afterward.
3. Remember to breathe, and also - when appropriate - to not breathe.
4. The automated voice does a countdown before you get sprayed on one side, then another countdown for you to turn around and get sprayed on the other side. I'm glad the nice woman told me beforehand to expect this, because once you're in there the voice is about as distinguishable as the teacher from those Charlie Brown cartoons.
5. Keep in mind that you'll smell oddly sweet and feel a little sticky but won't be able to shower for 4 hours afterward.
6. Towel off really well, and don't put your favorite bra on right after the mystic tan - I had no choice but to wear it or walk back through the salon carrying it - I chose modesty and now that shit won't wash out.

So, I can't say it was an altogether bad experience, but I also probably won't rush back to do it again. What about you? Do you get a summer glow the old-fashioned (and free) way or do you prefer another method?

Different but kinda the same

Sorry for the lack of updates again. Spent yesterday lying on the couch trying to ease the pressure on my head and fighting the related nausea (pre-menstrual migraines are a bitch), watching some awful reality show marathon (Bad Girls Club), napping and snuggling with the cat when he'd allow it (he's gotta be in the right mood and it has to be his idea - cats, I tell ya). Okay, so that's not really a decent excuse. I just didn't feel like writing I guess.

The little get-together with my friends from school went fine. It ended up just being myself and 2 other girls so it wasn't really a ton of pressure. I mean, it wouldn't be for the average person, but being Nervous Girl and all - I felt a bit awkward about it. I felt like I didn't have a whole lot to share or a whole lot that I wanted to share. They are both getting married this year and due to my own indecision, my wedding date is up in the air. Not that it's a bad thing. But listening to all their wedding plans got me a bit stressed out. No one tried to make me feel bad or anything, I just felt a little bad, so I was kind of quiet. You know, one of those conversations where you go around the table and everyone shares what wonderful things they have planned and when it gets to me I just shrug. Part of it is that I don't really have the budget and/or connections that they do, and part of it is that I just don't care so much about putting up this front of fakeness and trying to impress people so much these days. I've always been a little "different" so I imagine my wedding will be a little "different" too, but it'll be sweet in it's own way. *Shrugs*

The thing with the upcoming high-school reunion is that it's been made to sound like it's by invitation only, and only if you're cool enough. Maybe that's just the source I'm getting it from though. I'm still in the same town that I graduated in, so it seems sort of odd that the people organizing this have had a hard time tracking down people such as myself. I'm not really interested in jumping through hoops to get invited to something that I'm not even that interested in attending, so I don't know if I'll bother. One of the girls I met with was like "oh, you can probably go... I'm going but... you know... it might be past the deadline anyway." This brought back the old feelings of being in high-school so much that I started feeling like putting on some flannel and cords, listening to NIN (ok, technically I still do - the new album is actually really good), writing bad poetry and telling everyone to fuck off. Good times, good times.

In other news of friends that come and go, I also found out last weekend that my one local female friend who I consider to be a "real" friend has decided to move to Philly in a couple weeks. This saddens me greatly, but I can't blame her for wanting to try something new, and to get out of Michigan. At least she'd still hopefully come back to visit since there's family and friends here, so we'll see.

You're gone from here
Soon you will disappear
Fading into beautiful light
'cause everybody's changing
And I don't feel right.

So little time
Try to understand that I'm
Trying to make a move just to stay in the game
I try to stay awake and remember my name
But everybody's changing
And I don't feel the same.
- Keane

Moving On To Other Worries...

Well, I can eat my words. The visit with dad was short and sweet, with no major issues to report.

I'm excited but also somewhat nervous to be meeting up with some old friends today. We were all really close in middle school, but gradually drifted apart during and after highschool. It should be a good time. I've just got to try to turn off that critical inner voice that compares myself to everyone else. But you know how that goes. If nothing else, maybe I can still pull off being "the funny one." There's also the 10 year highschool reunion coming up later this summer, which I haven't necessarily been invited to, as the popular folks are in charge of these things. Really not sure that I'd be up for going to that anyway.

Ah well, enough dwelling on what may or may not happen. I gotta go get ready.

Dads can be weird sometimes

I wonder if perhaps the best way to plan for a dad visit is to not plan so much at all. He doesn't often give a lot of notice, and insists on being vague about when he'll arrive and when he'll leave. This can tend to stress me out. It almost seems like he does it purposely so you can't say no. Leaves me feeling like I'm a bad hostess by having to ask "so... were you thinking of staying over, or... getting back on the road?" He'll say to just tell him if it won't work out, but it also feels like there's a load-bearing wall of guilt behind that statement. Like when he responds "sure I can find a... campground or cheap motel or something around there." I don't know. Maybe he gets just as uncomfortable as I do and just wants to see how things play out. Still, doesn't make it the easiest to plan around or prepare for.

So, this time I'm not really planning either. He's supposed to call my cell phone vaguely this afternoon, hopefully it's not when he's already waiting at our house. Nevermind that I'm at work, he doesn't know the new location, and it would be preferred that he didn't just "drop in" here. But, I don't want to over-think it like I usually do. Even though I inevitably will.

See, we have a history of some rather uncomfortable visits over the years, so I feel like I'm always expecting the worst. Probably not the best way to go at the situation, but it's hard not to. There's always some comment that sticks with me from the last visit, like how he wants to be happy that we're finally getting married but we did it all backwards by living together before marriage and all, etc. Ah well, at least he didn't throw in the old "women who sleep with men outside of marriage are whores." Ahem. Eh. The bad thing is, anticipating what he might say tends to make me all revved up to be defensive. I need to keep my cool. I know, I'm an adult and should stand up for myself. But it gets sort of pointless to argue. It wasn't always like this, and I hate to say it because it's worked for him - but the church he joined and the way it has changed him has sort of put a damper on our relationship. I feel like I have to walk on eggshells not to cause a debate or an unwelcome evangelizin'. Try to keep everything PG and PBS-like with dad. And definitely avoid getting the missionaries called in to tell us The Truth. Ok, see I am over-thinking it now and getting edgy. Just keep things light and positive, right? It'll probably be fine and I'll feel like a shit for saying anything. :)

He still wants to play though

Jonesey doesn't care so much for the intricacies of your Scrabble game.
(Paws at tiles with frustration)

Cabin Six

At the beginning of sixth grade, the first year of middle school, we had Mandatory Sixth Grade Camp. In other words, get to know your peers in a controlled yet uncomfortable environment! Stay for 2 awkward days and 1 cold-ass night! Don't worry kids - we brought the cafeteria food with us, no campfire s'mores for you! And get ready for some required teamwork - only the strong will survive! (Well, socially that is.)

Anyway, considering my shyness and discomfort with unfamiliar situations, it didn't start out all that bad. We weren't exactly "roughing it" as we had little musty cabins to sleep in that held 4-6 people. And as mentioned, at least you only had to put in one overnight stay. The thing that sucked was being separated from your friends, as almost all activities were with an assigned group.

One of the few memories of the experience that sticks out in my mind was the hopeful feeling I had as I got my cabin assignment and headed off to find out who else would be in it. Maybe a friend? An acquaintance at least? Hey, maybe a possibility for a *new* friend I just hadn't met yet! (Ok, so I was a bit naive, but hey at least I was positive.)

I reached the cabin at the same time as another girl. She was pretty and had that more polished look (which at the time probably just meant a spiral perm and Umbros) of one of the richer girls. She didn't look too happy to see me coming, but I figured that like me, she must've just been thinking this camp experience was kind of weak. So I smiled and said "Oh, hi! I'm [so and so] - looks like we're in the same cabin..." Her eyes narrowed as she assessed this information. "Oh yeah? Well, I'm Katie..." (pausing for effect) "and I'm your worst nightmare." And with that, she stepped inside, slamming the door in my face.

Camp got off to a GREAT start.

But not long into the camp experience, it became clear that this Katie bitch wasn't what ended up as being my worst nightmare. Nope, I think I'd have to go with the state of the "bathrooms" along with being painfully constipated for two days as being the worst part. The thing was, at that age I tended to be horribly embarrassed by any bodily function as it is, so having no stall doors and only being permitted to go to the bathroom in groups was not something I was down with. If you were lucky, you had a friend who would hold her coat up in front of you while you went to the bathroom. But I wasn't about to ask her to keep waiting there so I could drop a load while within arms length (and definitely within smelling range) of each other. Lame. I just could not will myself to do it. So by the end of the next day of holding it in through climbing, jumping and other hateful activities, I was really having a BAD time. All I could think about was the concrete mixer action going on in my guts, and how it felt like either my ass or my head was going to explode. I didn't really care about teamwork anymore. I just wanted out of that fucking camp and to a reasonably private facility that didn't smell like sulfur so I could poop in peace. I hung in there for the rest of the time and begged my mom to drive straight home as fast as possible when she picked me up. So, seeing as how constipation is my clearest memory of sixth grade camp it's no wonder that I didn't make a bunch of new friends there, nor did I participate very well in team activities. Other people took my silent frowning as being stuck up, not stopped up. So, overall it was truly a pretty crappy experience for me. Ugh.

Side note: my friend was telling me about an actual "roughing it" hiking/camping experience she went on in high-school, complete with having to dig a hole to shit in, for two weeks. Call me over-sheltered folks, but you'd have to count me out of that. I like nature and all, but I just don't know if I could hang with being "at one" with it quite like that. My stomach hurts just thinking about it.

Claimed Baggage

I'll try to get this out before I tell myself to shutup. Maybe it will help. Maybe not. There's no good way of putting it, I'm feeling like a failure right now. In just about everything I do. I feel like dead weight dragging behind him and slowing everything down. I don't feel like marriage material. I don't feel like I have enough to offer in return. That is the worst, to feel like some sort of leech attached to something you don't deserve. It's very obvious that one could make it just fine without the other one. I don't want him to be any less. I just want to be more. To create some balance. It wasn't always this way, or didn't always feel like this. At some point it's like I lost myself, willingly. I wanted to just follow along not taking the lead. And that's not always bad, but it's not really fair that the other person always has to show you the way, and wait for you to catch up. I don't want to just be the girl that's always apologizing while she makes the same fucking mistakes repeatedly, but it feels like that's what I've become. It's trying on the patience of others. Somewhere along the way I got so scared of how much I'd fuck everything up that I crippled myself from being able to make decisions without advice. I stunted my own growth. That's no way to be.

The realization that has come may be obvious to everyone else. There was a period in life where I felt drawn to, well, others who didn't necessarily have a lot going for them. And felt like I could help them somehow, make things better. Did I? Probably thought so at the time. But didn't think of the self-serving side in it, that maybe deep down I was looking for an ego boost by scraping the bottom of the barrel for anyone worse off than myself. A saint complex, is it? So I'd seem all shiny and good by comparison since I felt like such a piece of shit inside. So then being with someone with talents and the whole package, I don't know quite what to do with myself. By all rights it's come back to bite me in the ass. My flaws are glaringly obvious. Over time, it's like the outer perception of goodness has worn off and everyone can see I'm just a lazy turd that he was kind enough to scrape off of his shoe and keep. Wow, that is an ugly UGLY thought. It's not about comparing yourself to others. Or, it shouldn't be.

At least the good thing is, as much as I say these hurtful things to myself, I don't feel that it's quite to the point of being hopeless. It's just that I have this perception of who I should be (you know - independent woman, domestic goddess, responsible adult, fun-loving wife, etc.) and it feels so far away. I don't want to spoil things for us. All I have to show for myself should not be a mess of self-doubt and emotional imbalance and unpaid bills and "I'm sorry"s. I can keep trying to make things better for myself, and in turn do better for him, for us. So, I'm not really asking for advice this time as much as writing out what's in my head and trying to make sense of it.

Flashing shit and scary profiles everywhere

So, MySpace is weird. I don't really get it. I know that's not exactly a newsflash at this point. What can I say - I always end up checking things out after the popularity has already died down. So, I haven't joined it or anything, just recently was browsing through to see what has become of people I went to school with and such. And once I waited and waited for their retina-burning templates to load and for shit to flash and the text to become nearly indecipherable, I found that yes, there are still some of those people around and some of them have grown up! I take some comfort that I'm not the only one whose face has filled out, and definitely not the only one who now is looking their age. For some reason it surprised me though. Like even though I've aged, I assumed all these people would be looking as young and perky as they did when we graduated. Of course, most of them are married and have kids now, but are still "OMG, having a BLAST!! LOL!" and are just as rich and popular as they always were. And you know I hate to admit it, but I started feeling a little left out, or left behind. I'm still letting myself feel inferior to these people, just like I used to! Not just in the myspace world but the real world too. And that is what sucks. Sure, how people talk about themselves and their own lives is usually a bunch of bullshit intended to make others react a certain way, but this is the kind of idiotic thing that triggers a whole spiraling mess of self-doubt within me. And it's not even worth it. Why should I want to be like them? Maybe my goals are a lot smaller and slow-paced and less fancy than theirs but damnit in my own way I'm "making it" too. So there. Yeah. Look at me, I took a bad feeling and made it somewhat positive after all - ha!

Staring Contest: Cat vs. Bunny

This is a common scene, just about every night at dusk. The bunny's all "nyah-nah" and the cat's all "mow? maaaow? mrrgh." Just wish this pic had turned out a little better, but it was dusky and I didn't want to break their concentration.

Partly Cloudy

I'm feeling sort of Crabby McNasty today, but otherwise things are fine. It's just PMS and a gloomy day. I had to put up this picture that was posted on Cute Overload a little while back - can't help but smile when I see it. I mean, just look at that fudgey little face! I want him to come sit at my desk. You wanna talk to me? Gotta go through this guy first.

I have to try to keep myself busy. You know, keep the bad thoughts at bay. I like to be alone and all, but sometimes when things are too slow and quiet I start to tear myself to shreds. Find the negatives in everything that could be happy. Tell myself I don't deserve anything good. Get angry at my family, shut myself off from them. Angry at myself for not being the person that I think they think I should be. Think of the friends I used to have. Try to remember what went wrong, and if it would be worth it to try and fix it. I assume I am hated, someone they've put out of their minds. In reality I don't really know what they feel, and I guess I'm too scared to find out. Yeah, it's a cop-out but right now I think the risk of rejection is more than I could handle. Sad but true. I've retreated too far inward to see things clearly.

Again, it's the PMS (possibly even PMDD) and the gloomy day talking here. I'm trying my best, with being on a diet, to not place so much importance on food, especially when I'm feeling down. Like thinking it'll lift my spirits to eat a bunch of junk, like I normally would. It does make me kinda sad though, when I look at myself and see how much I cling to things for comfort, and how for some people that's never really a problem. At some point, it's like I'm just replacing one addiction with another and another. You can't just go back to carrying around that worn-soft blankie with the silky edges to make you feel secure. But sometimes it would be nice, for things to be as simple as that.

Halfway There

Not that you need an explanation, but sometimes I just can't bring myself to write or to write and actually publish something because my inner critic just won't shut up. I wish that could be used to my benefit - to make me a perfectionist and really good at something. Instead, it makes me want to retreat and not do anything because I don't think it'll be good enough. Even the most trivial of things, like writing an email or a post or telling people at work that I have an idea. I second-guess, and ultimately just tuck it away and don't do it. I know, it's stupid and I'm having a hard time explaining it. So I'm just trying to type and not immediately go back and pick it apart. So what, ya know? It's my frickin journal to an extent and should be treated as such. It's not worth getting all fussy over. I've got to remind myself of that.

So, ANYWAY let's move on.

American Idol was sort of disappointing this week. I'm only slightly embarrassed to tell you that out of the guest coaches on the show, I was actually really looking forward to Bon Jovi week. Shit, who didn't love them back in the day? Well I guess you have to be of a certain age to appreciate it, like Jordin's MOM (I love how she pointed that out.) But then the performances just - well, left me wanting to hear better performances of those songs. Even when Bon Jovi performed, I was thinking "They're not even gonna ROCK? WTF?!" I kept waiting for that song to pick up and it never really happened. Bah! Plus the two guys that I kind of liked are both voted off now. I do have to say though, that even though I liked Chris and most of the song was pretty good (he even did a bit of a raspy voice thing there that I liked) there is no excuse for not putting all of your energy into the most badass line: "I've seen a million faces, and I ROCKED them all." Damnit if he didn't sing that like he rocked them all gently to sleep. Ah well. I'll still miss Chris and Phil, but I'm sure they'll do just fine.

The dieting is going alright. It's kind of depressing sometimes - like when you look at the amount of calories in everyfuckingthing - but we're also getting to try a variety of healthy foods that really don't taste all that bad. And getting some exercise - I can't believe I'm saying this - actually feels pretty good. But I feel like I shouldn't talk about it too much or I might jinx it or start sounding like one of those people, you know - those healthy types.

I can't believe that I actually sent my fiance an email yesterday concerning the status of our cat's butt. Seriously. I can only imagine the conversations that actual parenthood will cause us to have someday. Whoo boy!

Stay in there, ladies

Fun day. I made a bad undergarment decision while getting dressed this morning. So now at the office I keep grabbing my boobs (so nonchalantly of course) to make sure they haven't popped out of my bra, as a nip-slip would probably be pretty obvious under this thin shirt. Not saying that groping yourself while at work or boob-touching in general isn't fun and all, but this is just uncomfortable and annoying. And it's only like the second time I've worn this particular bra, damnit. I don't think I was getting the correct size there for a while or something, plus the brands tend to vary in how they fit and I'm not one to usually try them on. Anyway, I guess I underestimated with this one. I always wanted bigger boobs, and they are in fact bigger now than they've ever been. It's a false sense of accomplishment though - given that I am, as a whole, bigger than I've ever been. I'm currently in the much-needed process of dieting (ask me about my hunger pangs!) and getting in shape, so with my luck I'll probably lose some boob-fat in the process too. Then I'll have another set of ill-fitting bra issues. Yay.

Uh-oh. Excuse me. (Grab. Tuck. Adjust. Hoist.) There we go.